


some beat up sneaks

by hellmalik



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, Some drugs, and a lot of alcohol, i think thats it?, justin suddenly wants to become sorta active
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 05:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13070562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellmalik/pseuds/hellmalik
Summary: justin gets a new hobby. it doesn't really work out.





	some beat up sneaks

**Author's Note:**

> something i'd been wanting to write for a while. now it's here! 
> 
> it's been a really long break from writing but i guess i'm here again? kinda? 
> 
> idea by thestonedsoldier on tumblr, who deserves all the credit! thanks for letting me use this funny idea! 
> 
> i don't own anything. it hasn't been beta'ed so any mistakes are my own. 
> 
> title from shut up and dance by walk the moon.

there’s a special place in hell for people who decide to get _smart_ with their workout. brian was very quick to conclude this after having seen way too many weird ass workout ads at work. what was so wrong with just jumping on the treadmill and running like a normal person? why couldn’t you just lift weights at the gym instead of trying to do your own special little twist on it in your back garden? and why the fuck was every single magazine trying to get him to do yoga? it wasn’t fucking happening. 

he knew what machines worked for him at the gym and he had even bought his own treadmill for when he didn’t bother actually leaving his loft. justin had eyed it suspiciously the first time he pulled it out, but said nothing, just left him to his own devices. 

(justin was eating lunch with emmett and ted one day when he learned that the entire gang went to the gym on a regular basis. his nose had scrunched, his eyebrows pulling together, the _why?_ clear in his eyes. emmett had leaned over the table and placed a hand on his forearm, saying _we aren’t all 18 anymore baby_. 

justin had shrugged and went back to nibbling on his fries, leaving ted and emmett to continue making plans regarding the gym. his head shot up suddenly, _even brian?_. emmett’s cackle was loud and the guys at the table behind him shot him dirty looks. 

_oh honey, especially brian! he’s getting old, that body won’t stay perfect forever_

justin very much disagreed with that) 

he never mentioned anything about fitness or workouts ever again. didn’t ask to borrow the treadmill, didn’t come to the gym with them, didn’t make any smart comments (though brian figured it was bound to come at some point. justin couldn’t just let things _be_ ). 

\- 

because justin had seemed utterly disinterested in any sort of physical workout (apart from the athletic fucking he seemed get every single day lately) brian hadn’t seen it coming, when one day justin had called him to the computer to see this new _thing_. 

“it’s this jumping thing, but it looks really cool! daphne heard some of the girls talk about it after swim practise today.” 

he had pulled up a webpage with a dark blue background, large signs in neon colors spelling stuff that brian wasn’t gonna embarrass himself trying to pronounce. there were pictures of boys in baggy clothes jumping over stone benches, one with a guy up in the air and his hand on a wall. justin scrolled down and clicked the video that popped up. 

“watch this, it’s amazing,” justin murmured, probably mostly to himself. brian had to bend down slightly, his hand on the back of the chair, justin’s hair tickling him just around the elbow. he ignored it. 

the video was grainy, obviously homemade. there were boys running around down, jumping over things, halfway climbing up walls and pushing themselves away, landing further away. one guy did a backflip of a staircase. brian was a little bit impressed, not much, he’d seen better. 

justin’s eyes were glued to the screen, his entire body still like he’d usually only be with a pencil in hand or after a really good blowjob. brian held back a snicker. 

the video faded to black and justin quickly scrolled down to look at more pictures. the last picture was of five guys, all doing a handstand on what looked like the top of a long stairway. brian straightened himself out and let the back of the chair go when justin turned around. 

“i wanna do that! doesn’t it look awesome?” 

brian smirked. “you’ve never done a single workout in your life and now you wanna do handstands and jump off buildings. i don’t see that happening anytime soon.” 

justin’s smile didn’t falter. “i can always learn, right? there must be some sort of lessons to take somewhere,” he turned back around to the computer and pulled up the search bar, his fingers quick on the keyboard. 

brian left him to do his research and went to take a shower. he was sure justin would end up breaking his face in some way. what a shame. 

\- 

the next day at the diner, justin excitedly told michael about his new obsession. 

“it’s called parkour and it’s like, you know how an everyday superhero would move around. so i read about it, yeah? and so, basically, it’s just about getting from one point to another in the most creative way, which seems simple enough but it’s actually really difficult. i have to show you the video, but it’s so cool michael, it’s so great!” 

michael seemed interested enough, brian eyed the guy at the counter. he was hot. and new. he heard a _maybe i’ll give it a go too?_ from beside him. 

“you’re gonna fall on your face mickey. it’s handstands and jumping off buildings. you can barely lift 20kgs as it is.” michael turned to him with small eyes. they stared at each other. 

“fine. alright, i’ll just go to the boring old gym like every other gay man in pittsburgh.” brian’s lips tugged up into a smile for a short while but he could still see justin with a dream like look on his face out of the corner of his eye. 

“you’re gonna break your neck,” he tried to say offhandedly to justin, who, luckily, was so far into his dream _parkour_ world to let him know, just how much brian probably _cared_. he just smiled at him. 

-

justin stopped talking about the whole parkour thing for a while. he came home late after school, spent a lot of time with daphne during the evenings and borrowed brian’s video recorder, but he didn’t mention the p-word again. brian figured they were safe from cracked skulls, scraps from the concrete and broken bones. 

at least until he came home one day to justin passed out on the couch, one hand still holding a pencil, his sketchbook on the floor next to him, his light snoring softly filling the room. his computer was open on a webpage, a grainy video in the center, the boy on the screen clearly justin, with that mop of almost white hair. well, it wasn’t brian’s problem. 

-

babylon was loud around them, men pushing in from all sides. there was a man entirely covering justin’s backside, but justin almost didn’t seem to notice. the pills in his hand were small and when he said _got them from emmett_ his voice was nearly drowned out by the music. he pushed a pill into brian’s mouth, the other into his own and grabbed the beer the guy behind him was holding onto. he didn’t protest, his eyes glassy and slightly wet. brian took the beer from justin’s hands and poured it down his throat. 

justin disappeared into the crowd not too long after that. 

when brian later came back from the backroom, ready to finally call it a night, he found justin out on the dance floor, hands in the air. he wasn’t really dancing, just moving slowly and no one seemed to bother him. the men on the dance floor parted when brian went in to get him. 

brian grabbed his hips from behind and pressed up against him, “i’m going home.” 

justin turned slowly and wound his hands around his neck. he grinned wide and his eyes closed. brian couldn’t be sure, because of the loud music but he was almost positive he said _alright, lets go_ , so he pulled him from the dance floor, saying a quick bye to ted when they walked out the door. 

outside, justin stumbled along beside him on the way home. he giggled the entire way, his legs moving him from side to side. when brian looked over he had his eyes closed.

“christ, how much did you have to drink?” he grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him back when they had to cross the road. 

“uhh, not enough,” he mumbled and almost fell over, brian’s hand holding on to his jacket the only thing stopping him from faceplanting on the concrete below. 

brian moved his hand down and grabbed his hand instead. for safety. 

-

getting justin into the elevator was a fucking nightmare. he kept pressing every single button and giggled when brian pushed him down into a sitting position on the floor. he fell over and stared up at the ceiling. when they finally arrived at the loft door brian had to yank him out of the elevator, still lying on the floor and justin almost fell down the stairs when he tried to get into a standing position again. his grasp on brian’s jeans so strong he almost pulled them down. 

inside the loft he kicked off his shoes (one of them landing all the way over by the fridge) and took his clothes off on the way to the bed. he mumbled to himself the entire way. brian kept an eye on him, still standing by the kitchen counter. the kid had _definitely_ had way too much to drink. he couldn’t even bring him to babylon anymore without having to take care of his drunken ass when they got home. and no sex. brian caught himself before he let out a massive sigh. 

he heard justin flop unto the bed, a bit of rustling with the duvet, and then it was quiet.

brian slowly walked up to the bed to see justin almost lying like a starfish across the entire thing. and brian _refused_ to sleep on his own couch. so when he had gotten out of his clothes he pushed justin aside (he barely made any indication that he noticed) and fell down, ready to sleep for all eternity. taken care of drunk justin was no easy feat. 

he was almost asleep when he felt the bed move next to him. he looked over and saw justin roughly pushing the covers back and wobbling onto his feet. he stumbled towards the kitchen but tripped when he reached the stairs. the loud _donk_ when he hit the floor could probably be heard two floors down. there was no sound for a second. 

“justin.” 

justin let out a deep breath and groaned “ _parkour_ ”. 

brian promptly turned over and willed himself to fall asleep. 

idiot. 

-

when justin finally woke the next day he jumped from the bed and ran straight to the bathroom. he dropped to his knees on the floor in front of the toilet and the loud sounds of gagging and sick landing in the toilet almost made brian’s own stomach turn. _almost_. 

20 minutes later justin finally emerged from the bathroom, towel around his waist and his har still damp. his walk was uneven and he didn’t put enough weight on his right foot. 

“think i did something weird to my ankle last night,” his voice was completely shot. the words sounded like they were being dragged across sandpaper. brian leveled him with an unimpressed look. 

“you parkour’ed down the fucking stairs.” 

justin closed his eyes against the slight raise in brian’s voice. 

“do you have any bandages?” he didn’t move an inch, head titled back against the backrest of the couch. 

“it’s in the bathroom.” 

justin slowly lifted his head and got to his feet before brian decided to take pity on him.

“sit down,” he pulled his arm and he fell back against the couch with a shaky whimper. he was quick to find the bandages in the bathroom and grabbed a glass of water along with an advil for his head on his way back. 

he placed the glass and the pill on the table and went to work on bandaging his ankle. 

“thanks,” it was small, almost inaudible. he made a sound at the back of his throat in reply. “i think i’m done with parkour for now.” 

brian couldn’t repress the amused smile.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think x
> 
> also come talk to me on my tumblr: brlankinney
> 
> thanks for reading!


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